


Calling Your Shots

by Mina Lightstar (ukefied)



Category: Dark Angel
Genre: Community: kink_bingo, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-03
Updated: 2012-10-03
Packaged: 2017-11-15 14:20:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/528222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ukefied/pseuds/Mina%20Lightstar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So, the re-match didn't go exactly as planned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Calling Your Shots

**Author's Note:**

> For kink_bingo: "pervertibles," full disclosure below. Set some indeterminate time after the infamous pool game.

So, the re-match didn't go exactly as planned.

Alec rubs his cheek against the billiard cloth. "I can't believe you bought a pool table just to show me up," he quips, like being bent naked over solid wood in a low-lit apartment is no big deal.

(It really isn't; Alec could leave any time he wanted _If_ he wanted.)

The sharp smack against his rear surprises him, and he jumps. "Oh my god," he laughs, craning his neck to look over his shoulder. "Did you just _spank_ me with it, you kinky son of a bitch?"

"I borrowed it," Logan Cale clarifies, holding the long cue in one tightly fisted hand. Lamplight is glinting against the frame of his glasses. "And shut your mouth or I'll do it again."

Alec's brow furrows. "Bor—you _borrowed_ the pool table?" He drops his forehead to the table's surface as he cackles. "You are a special kind of sick, pal. I take it he isn't a good friend?"

Logan hits him again, two sharp whacks against the same cheek. Again, it's surprise more than anything that makes him react, jerking forward into the wood. "I'm going to clean it," Logan sneers. "Now stop back-talking."

"Can't," Alec sighs, feigning apology. He can feel the tension in the air behind him. "It's what I do. For all you know, it's a defense mechanism I developed to deal with years of insecurity and abuse."

Then Logan is a heavy weight atop him, pressing Alec harder into the table with a hand against his neck. Logan's still wearing his jeans — _talented asshole_ — and the denim feels deliciously rough against his ass. It's a nice counterpoint to the feel of the billiard cloth. Alec stretches his arms out across the table and pushes back, rubbing against Logan's hardening cock.

Logan grunts, caught off-guard. Before Alec can say anything, Logan's breathing right into his ear. "Shut. Up," he orders, voice so full of promise it makes Alec shiver. Out of reflex, he tries to lift his head. Logan shoves him back down before pulling away.

"Don't move," Logan commands, circling around the room. "Safe word?" he asks from somewhere Alec can't see.

Alec snorts. "Don't need one. If it's too much, I'll stop you."

"You're too confident," Logan says clinically. Suddenly he's back, and Alec gets caned across the back for his sass. "You welching on our bet?"

"I don't welch," Alec replies. Fidgeting gets him another strike and yeah, they're starting to sting a little now.

Logan's fingers grip his hair, pull his head back to an uncomfortable angle. "And what. Was. The bet?"

"You gonna talk like that the whole time?" To his credit, he barely winces when Logan wrenches his head further back.

"The bet."

That tone again. The one full of promises. The one that makes people listen to him. Alec looks up at Logan. His glasses are gone. "You get to do whatever you want," he answers. _And I am never playing pool with you again._

"Good," Logan breathes. "Good." He lets Alec lower his head, but keeps stroking his hair. "So here's how it's going to work." He points with with cue. "You're going to keep your arms on the table. I don't care what happens, you keep them on the table."

Alec feels a wry smile tugging at his lips. "You can't keep me here."

"No," Logan agrees readily, sliding his hand down Alec's spine. "You're going to _let me_ keep you here."

Alec freezes even as a hot shiver follows Logan's palm. "O-oh," he replies shakily.

Logan chuckles. Quick as a whip, he swings the pool cue again. The hit is harder this time, like Logan wants to _hurt_ him, but Alec keeps his hands where they are. "Why did you agree to strip billiards?" Logan muses, tapping his bare calf with the cue.

Alec doesn't answer. He could stand up, walk out — pretend this never happened. What he hell was Logan going to do if he did?

His hands are still resting flat upon the table.

"Were you hoping for something?" Logan needles, sounding a little too smug. He whacks Alec's thigh once, twice — hard, insistently, and Alec realizes Logan wants him to spread his legs. "Needed someone to take away excuses?"

Alec huffs impatiently. "You wanna fuck me, Logan? Huh, is that it?"

"No." The uncapping of a bottle makes him a liar.

"Then what are you doing?" he asks dryly, finally complying and widening his stance.

Logan pulls him even further apart. One finger tags his opening, makes one slick circle and slides in. Alec sighs, rocks back into it without shame. It withdraws far too soon for Alec's liking, but it's back a second later, lubed and strong and — 

"Fuck!" Alec gasps, trying to jerk away. The table groans in protest. "Logan, what the fuck!"

"Shh," Logan soothes, gentleness belied by inching the pool cue in higher.

Alec sees stars. It's — it doesn't _hurt_ , exactly, it — _fuck._ "Logan," he tries again, clenching up. "Please—"

"Don't fight it," Logan advises, and rolls it in place.

Something raw and broken echoes through the apartment. Alec realizes with horror that it's him and clamps his mouth shut. It isn't fair. He's so fucking exposed. He can feel the cue spinning around inside him, rubbing against him, inching deeper.

"No," he moans, scratching at the table's surface. "No, don't…"

"How deep do you think I could go?" Logan wonders. "Do you think I could reach your prostate like this?" He pushes the long cue deeper still. "Think I could make you come on a _stick?_ "

Alec blacks out. He must black out, because he sure as hell doesn't remember Logan moving and next thing he knows, Logan is holding him upright and the pool cue has clattered to the ground.

"Careful," Logan hushes. "Careful. You don't want to fall on it," he chuckles. "But…" he worms a hand between Alec and the table and wraps his fingers around Alec's cock, "then again, you might like that, hmm?"

"Fuck you," Alec snarls. He's pissed now. Pissed, exploited, humiliated … and his hands are still where Logan put them.

"Fair enough," Logan allows, pulling at his cock for a few more moments.

Then the pool cue's back, and Alec's world explodes again.

"Fuck," he whimpers, rolling his head on the table. He's sweating, quivering, clawing at the cloth, short nails trying to find purchase. It fucks in and out, never quite reaching his prostate, but Logan is relentless. Soon Alec is a loose, eager mess — opening wider and begging for Logan to take pity on him.

But Logan pulls away. The cue nearly slides out, and Alec is pushing back to keep it inside him before he even realizes what he's doing.

"Logan," Alec whimpers. "Come on, what're doing." Fuck, he's so hard it hurts.

"You realize what you just did?" Logan asks. Alec can hear him impatiently fussing with his belt. "You realize what you just let me do?"

"I realize what you _didn't_ do," Alec pants. "Fuck, please—"

"Oh, I like that," Logan purrs, naked and warm, cock slick against Alec's ass. "Say it again."

"Please," Alec begs, unashamed. "Please, please, _please._ "

Logan bends to retrieve the cue. "This?" he asks, teasing Alec's hole with the tip.

" _Yes,_ " Alec grits out, scratching the table. Logan complies, sliding the cue deep inside, twisting it just so for friction. Alec starts babbling, he doesn't even know what the fuck about, and feels Logan rearrange himself, legs on either side of the cue as he works it, cock grinding against Alec's ass.

And he can't anymore. He _can't._ He screams, strains backwards into Logan, feels Logan's cock almost slip in alongside the cue, and it's over.

He comes harder than he has in a long time, all over the table's edge. He almost collapses, as he is wont to do after sex, but Logan keeps him upright, murmuring soothing nothings and stroking his sweaty back.

"Fuck," Logan curses, leaning over to mouth the shell of Alec's ear. "That was … you are…" He swallows, fingers hot against Alec's hips. "Alec, can I…?" He nudges his cock forward; it's rock-hard.

Alec blinks the stars away. "Can I move my hands?" he asks when he finds his voice.

"Hmm?" Logan asks, still sliding his erection against Alec, waiting for permission.

"My hands," Alec repeat, stronger now. "Can I move?"

"Sure," Logan says, and that's the _last decision_ he's going to make tonight.

Alec changes the game in record time, throwing Logan onto the pool table. Alec's on him before the wince fades, sucking all the smugness out of Logan's tongue.

"It was a psychological thing," Logan tries to explain with kiss-bruised lips. "I was trying to help you."

"Fuck psychology," Alec quips, turning around so he can lick the tip of Logan's cock. "What's the subliminal meaning behind this?" he asks, and takes Logan as far as he can.

"Ho—oh, god," Logan groans, grabbing at Alec's thighs and fucking his mouth with steady thrusts.

It doesn't last long. Logan comes in stuttered spurts, and Alec drinks it down. He resists the urge to spit on the "borrowed" pool table, but only just. He hops off the table and quirks a devious grin at the frazzled Logan.

"I got some liminal out of that," he says. "Filthy, perverted liminal."

Logan smiles back, and Alec helps him to his feet.

 

~end

**Author's Note:**

> Spanking & anal penetration with a pool cue.


End file.
